


Phoenix

by blakefancier



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 17:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier





	Phoenix

Never let your heart open with the spring flowers:  
One inch of love is an inch of ashes.  
\--Li Shang-yin

*****  
Touch is everything...  
*****

He tells me, "This isn't a courtship, Blake. I'm not going to make an honest man of you. I'm not offering you the romance of a lifetime. What this is is an uncomplicated f--"

I have to kiss him in order to shut him up. Once Avon gets going, it's impossible to get him to stop.

He doesn't believe I'm not asking for marriage or romance or whatever the hell he thinks I'm after. But I know there's no such thing as happily ever after. So I kiss him and touch him, touch his nipples, rub the head of his cock, fuck him until he makes those soft little sobbing sounds into the pillow. Then I hold him, feel his heart thump in his chest and his harsh, moist breath against my neck. I run my hands up and down his back as he wiggles against me.

I don't pretend that we're in my flat on earth and I have to get up early in the morning to go to work but I don't care because he smells nice, like soap and sex. I don't pretend that someday we'll be old men holding each other this way, whispering in hushed tones about those days when we were young and fought the Federation. I don't even pretend that I'll wake up one morning and he'll still be in my bed, staring down at me with amused eyes.

Instead I think about how this won't last. How eventually he'll stop coming to my room, stop undressing for me, stop smiling and laughing and asking breathlessly for me to fuck him. He'll get tired of playing second to the Cause. Of course he will. So I make it worth his while. I find all the spots that make him cry out for more; that place on the small of his back that he likes licked, the hollow of his throat where I kiss...the backs of his knees where I nuzzle and breathe warm air onto the skin.

"I don't love you," I say to him. "I don't even like you."

He smiles and touches the corner of my mouth with his thumb. I want to bite him. I do bite him. I take his thumb between my teeth and press down. He laughs.

I think, I love you. And I stop biting and find myself kissing him instead. My hands stroke up and down his sides and he hooks a leg over mine. Then his hands grab my arms hard enough that he'll leave bruises and he bites my lip until I taste blood.

I pull away and look at him. His mouth is smeared red and his eyes have that far away look that make me realize he's thinking of something -- someone -- else. I want to shake him but I settle for wiping the blood from his mouth and rubbing his stomach.

He blinks and his eyes focus on me. Then he moves his body so that his cock taps my hand. I take him in hand, pumping till he comes in my fist. As I lick the mess from my palm he rolls off the bed onto his feet.

I watch as he dresses and heads for the door. He stops before walking out and looks over his shoulder. "This isn't a love affair."

"I know," I say, but the door is already closed and he doesn't hear it.

*****  
...and nothing.  
*****


End file.
